this
ride was organized by sara for may 26th at 11 a.m., primarily to
honor cyclists killed on the road.

many
people brought flowers, and these we left in profusion at the various
sites.

on
the back of sara's map she printed some memorial poems, and various
people climbed up

onto
plinths and abutments and declaimed them at some of the stops.

in
addition to the planned stops on the map, we stopped at the steel
bridge to honor jessica williams,

murdered
there a few days before, and whose loved ones had erected a display
for her there.

we
started with about 40 riders and ended way up in washington park with
maybe a dozen.

the
whole ride took about 5 hours

2004

Sara put
together this ride too, and handed out a map again, this time with a
list of memorials and fatalities that we are honoring in addition to
the ones we visit this year. Memorials - police, fire-fighters, and
various veterans, 911, Japanese American, Iraqi civilians, holocaust,
and Joan of Arc, who refused to carry a weapon into battle.
Fatalities - 14 more cyclist and pedestrian deaths, 6 of them young
children.

May
31st, we gathered at the same place as a year ago, the bike memorial
at SE 37th and Taylor, where Matthew Shekel's mom read a poem for
him. A 42nd and Belmont, where Orion Satushek and Angela Leazenby
were killed last June, Heidi read the Ralph Chaplin poem (above). At
Lone Fir Cemetary, at the memorial for the "American" veterans of the
Civil War (the Union), the Spanish-American War, World War I, and the
Indian Wars, I gave a short talk about our country's covered-up
genocidal massacres of Philippino patriots and read the Ingeborg
Bachman poem:

Every Day

War is no longer
declared,

but simply continued. The
unheard of

has become the everyday.
The hero

keeps clear of battles.
The weak

are pushed to the front
lines.

The uniform of the day is
patience,

the decoration the paltry
star

of hope above the
heart.

It's awarded

when nothing more
happens,

when drum-fire
ceases,

when the enemy becomes
invisible

and the shadow of eternal
armament

covers the sky.

It's awarded

for desertion of
flags,

for courage in the face of
the friend,

for betraying unworthy
secrets

and disregard

of every
command.

(trans. Daniel
Huws)

At
the Citybikes Virgin of Guadeloupe Shrine to Ted Hriskos (beloved
Citybikes habitue, also killed by a driver this past year), Sara
spoke about his mystical knowledge of bikes. Where the Esplanade
crosses under the Morrison Bridge, we left a passel of flowers in
memory of Lynda Pigler, the animal rights activist run down with her
dog Bear 4 days ago. Further along the Esplanade, at the Steel
Bridge, where young Jessica Williams was murdered last year, someone
read a poem by Sterling Brown - I think we found it posted there on
the fence. At Dawson Park, Sean spoke about the intentional
destruction of the African-American community of Albina hereabouts.
Where N. Skidmore passes over the freeway, we put down flowers for
Kendra James and James Jahar Perez, killed by police at traffic stops
this past year. Then Heidi and i together read - working up to a
shout - James Fenton's "Tiananmen" (sketchily scanned above). Then we
quietly and briefly visited the home of Fernando Martinez Ponce,
11-year-old beloved Community Cycling Center habitue, run down on his
bike 2 weeks ago, left flowers, marveled at the fantastic little
drawing of a sinister SUV put up by his little cousin, and waved to
his uncles. Then we proceeded to the Paul Bunyan statue on N Denver,
where Sean again gave us neighborhood history and someone read the
Mang Ke poem:

A Fallen Tree

On the branches of a
fallen tree

a shroud of snow is
melting

like the flesh of a
corpse.

It halts me in my
tracks,

afraid to come
near.

I stand at a
distance

staring,
staring

until, at last,

when all the snow has
melted,

I can see its skeleton on
the ground.

(trans. Donald
Finkel)

At Delta Park, Sean told the story of
the Vanport Flood and a very self-sufficient old homeless dude named
Mike added to the lore and identified the last remaining Vanport
building just across the way, once the municipal bath-house, now a
storage shed. At the Expo Center Max stop, we checked out the newly
installed Vanport memorial art, and made our last goodbyes of this
beautiful and cleansing day.